


Snakes and Hearts

by southsideglitter



Series: Bad Kids [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bathroom makeouts, Biting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hair-pulling, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Sharing Clothes, Smut, Teenagers, Texting, Threesome, bisexual Serpent squad, southside serpents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:11:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsideglitter/pseuds/southsideglitter
Summary: You, Fangs and Sweet Pea are best friends. The kind that have each other’s backs, flirt, bicker and occasionally make out. Until Sweet Pea has to leave for the summer. He’s gonna be away for months, and the three of you haven’t been apart that long in… ever. So you’re planning on giving him one hell of a send-off.(With sex, in case that wasn’t clear).





	1. Sweet and Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever. So please be nice! I've at least another fic planned for this series so hopefully it won't be too long inbetween...

You step out of the shower, wet hair dripping. You’ve been in a funk for the past week, ever since Sweet Pea pulled you and Fangs to one side and explained what was going on.  
“You can’t tell anyone,” he’d said, his mouth against your hair as he pulled you both into one of those big bruising Sweet Pea hugs. “It’s family stuff, but it’s… complicated. So for now, we’re saying it’s Serpent business, okay? That’s the story, and you gotta back me up.”  
“Shit, Sweets. Is it bad?”  
“I don’t know yet.”  
“You’d better be coming back.”  
“I am. Can’t leave you two idiots for long, can I?”  
Fang smacked Pea’s arm, half-hearted but taking Sweet’s lead. You were both sizzling with questions already, but you could tell from the storms in those gorgeous dark eyes that - right now - Pea needed you on his side, not asking too much, or anything at all. Not yet, anyway.  
You shuffled closer, both of you, arms wrapping round him. You leant your head against Pea’s chest, feeling his familiar warmth and scent through layers of soft flannel, feeling his breathing shudder and then slowly start to settle.  
_No Serpent stands alone._  
Fangs had squeezed your waist as you untangled yourselves. He’d look after you, you knew. And you could look after yourself. But still. No Sweet Pea for the summer was a sad, bad and strange prospect. You’d sniffled on Fangs shoulder later. You’d sulked. You’d sobbed. You’d given yourself several stern talkings-to in various bathrooms (school, the Wyrm, your trailer and the other Serpents’ places) over that week, as you slowly got the whole story from Pea and helped him get ready to go. But no matter how many times he mussed up your hair and said _come on, baby, I’ll be back before you know it_ , you still weren’t ready for what you knew had to come. 

There was a send-off celebration, that night at the Wyrm. All the Serpents would be there. But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more time, with Sweet Pea, with Fangs, with both your two best friends together, the way you’d spent a million nights crashed out together in your trailer, after school or Serpent business or hanging out at the quarry, coming back to watch movies and talk smack about everyone you knew. Your boys. Everyone knew that. You were a trio, inseparable since being kids, and you’d all grown up good or bad, depending on your definition. Smart-mouthed rebels, tough to almost everyone and sweet only when it was safe to show it, and mostly only to each other. A little bit dirty, a little bit dangerous. Three of a kind. 

Wrapping up in a towel, you grab your phone and type out a message to Fangs. 

Y/N: Hey pointy teeth  
Fangs: Sup sexy  
Y/N: You and Sweets wanna crash at mine later?  
Fangs: Sounds good to me.   
Fangs: Threesome???

You roll your eyes. It wasn’t like that, with the three of you, although people had made X-rated speculations on various occasions. The boys loved it, and played up to it as much as they could. They said they were just being protective, that it was a way to keep no-good admirers away. But it’s not like there hadn’t been… _moments_ , over the years. You were teenagers, with hormones and libidos, hardly any parental input and easy access to beer. You wouldn’t be able to count the amount of times you’d kissed them both, for pleasure or for comfort, and company on hot nights, though it always stayed over the clothes. And Pea and Fangs seemed to have no qualms about their occasional-but-hot-as-fuck-when-they-happen furious make-out sessions, usually in the adrenaline high after initiations, or when they’ve been out fighting. Seeing them grab the lapels of each other’s leather jackets, grinding their mouths together… _that_ was a sight you’d never get sick of seeing. But Fangs just liked to wind you up, to pretend there was something more. 

Y/N: Never mind, you're not invited  
Fangs: !!!   
Y/N: Don't be sleazy,then.   
Y/N: Honestly  
Y/N: Why am I even friends with you?  
Fangs: My good looks.   
Fangs: And street smarts.   
Fangs: Also I got shot and survived so I'm basically invincible.  
Y/N: I hate you.   
Fangs: Nah.   
Fangs: You love me.  
Fangs: Everyone does.   
Fangs: I'm adorable.   
Y/N: You're an asshole.  
Fangs: They’re not mutually exclusive.  
Fangs: So.  
Fangs: SP know we're staying?   
Y/N: Not yet. Just thought he might not wanna be alone before he goes.  
Fangs: You know he'll never admit that.   
Y/N: I know.   
Fangs: Don't worry.   
Fangs: You'll think of something to entice him.   
Fangs: Like food.   
Fangs: Or sex. 

You snicker, typing out your reply before going on to rub in body oil, wondering whether you should tell your dirty-minded best friend what you were doing just then. 

Y/N: I swear to god Fogarty.   
Fangs: Just kidding.   
Fangs: You are a beautiful, intelligent and powerful goddess who deserves far better than to be so vilely objectified by such lowlife serpent scum as myself.   
Y/N: That's better.   
Fangs: But for real though buy food.   
Fangs: You never have anything in at your trash palace.  
Y/N: Okay cool.  
Fangs: Thanks babe.   
Y/N: Btw you're uninvited again.   
Fangs: Babe!  
Fangs: Don't be like that.  
Fangs: If you get the ingredients, I'll make breakfast.   
Y/N: I want pancakes.   
Fangs: Fine.  
Y/N: In bed.   
Fangs: Your wish is my command.   
Y/N: We got a deal.   
Y/N: See you at the Wyrm?  
Fangs: Wear something slutty. 

You look around your tiny messy bedroom, discarded clothes everywhere. You’d been wondering all week what would be right. You wriggle into black lace underwear and reply, figuring you’ll decide on the rest later. 

Y/N: Only if you do.  
Fangs: Hard bargain.   
Fangs: But worth it.   
Fangs: It's gonna be a good send-off for Sweets. 

You scowl. 

Y/N: How can you be so calm about it?   
Y/N: Aren't you gonna miss him?   
Fangs: Like that bullet in my stomach.   
Y/N: FOGARTY.  
Y/N: This is me you're talking to.  
Y/N: I know how much you love him.  
Y/N: Aren't you scared?  
Fangs: A bit.  
Y/N: Thank you.  
Fangs: But he's a big boy.

You start thumbing out a smutty response but then see the three dots that say Fangs is still typing, so you delete yours and wait. 

Fangs: He's gonna be okay.  
Fangs: And I'll have you and about a hundred other heartbroken Serpent ladies to entertain me in his absence.  
Y/N: You wanna get shot again, pointy teeth?   
Fangs: Oh my god, Y/N.   
Fangs: I can't believe you'd joke about that.  
Y/N: Oh but you're allowed?  
Fangs: Excuse you.  
Fangs: I am a survivor.  
Y/N: Never letting that one go huh.  
Fangs: Bulletproof _and_ beautiful? Never. 

You close your eyes. Don’t think about those hours in the hospital, and afterwards. Don’t think about Pea clenching his fists and his jaw, more wild-eyed and lost than you’d ever seen him before. Your phone bleeps again and you breathe out, big. You shake your head and remind yourself: _he survived_. 

Fangs: And anyway, think about it.  
Fangs: With SP out of the way I'm definitely gonna be the hottest serpent option.   
Y/N: Um, no babe.  
Y/N: Have you seen Choni?  
Fangs: Damn.   
Fangs: You right.   
Fangs: Hottest guy?   
Y/N: I'd say FP.   
Fangs: Y/N!   
Fangs: He's like our Dad.   
Y/N: More like Daddy.   
Fangs: I can't believe you.   
Fangs: I agree to breakfast in bed and this is my thanks?  
Fangs: Kinky chat about FP?  
Y/N: Shut up, I know you get it.   
Fangs: Okay fine he's hotter.  
Fangs: Way to crush a guy when he's down.  
Y/N: I know what'll cheer you up.  
Fangs: Nudes?  
Y/N: BYE.   
Fangs: Aww, tell me!   
Y/N: Jughead didn't even get a mention.   
Fangs: Ahahaha. Poor serpent prince.   
Y/N: Don't tell him.   
Fangs: Can't promise that, doll.   
Fangs: Can I tell Pea he's the sexiest?  
Fangs: As if he doesn't know.  
Fangs: But it might cheer him up.   
Y/N: Sure.   
Y/N: Sounds like normal best friend chat.   
Fangs: We talk about how hot you are all the time too if that helps.   
Y/N: Great.   
Fangs: It is actually.   
Y/N: Okay, I've endured this nonsense long enough.   
Y/N: Gonna get groceries then get ready.   
Y/N: Check in on Sweets and make sure he's okay.   
Fangs: Duh.   
Y/N: See you later. Drive safe.   
Fangs: Get ice-cream. And coffee. And red licorice.  
Fangs: Also condoms and lube.   
Fangs: You know, all the essentials.  
Y/N: Did I mention I hate you?   
Fangs: I love you.   
Y/N: Love you too.  
Y/N: Asshole. 

You’re in a much better mood already. To reward Fangs for cheering you up, you snap a pic of yourself in your underwear and send it to him, laughing, then throw on jeans and a t-shirt ready to hit the store. You send a message to Pea before you leave. 

Y/N: Looking forward to being centre of attention tonight, Sweets?  
Sweet Pea: Come on, beautiful, no-one’s gonna be looking at me.

You’re not sure what he means, but he’s typing again, so you wait.

Sweet Pea: Not if you’re wearing that outfit Fangs just sent me. 

Unbelievable.

Y/N: Don’t you two have any shame?  
Sweet Pea: None.  
Sweet Pea: And neither do you, obviously.  
Sweet Pea: Looking good, by the way.  
Sweet Pea: Why don’t I get pics like that?

You bite your lip to keep from grinning, decide to join them in their sweet and stupid sexy game. Gotta be better than worrying. 

Y/N: Because you’re getting the live show later.  
Sweet Pea: Tease.  
Y/N: Let me know if you need anything, okay? Love you. 

He sends back a snake and a heart.


	2. Not Sorry at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You arrive at the Wyrm in what turns out to be one of Fangs' shirts. He's being a whiny little bitch about getting it back, so you and Sweet Pea order him to the bathroom to negotiate its return. Things get a little out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I had the next chapter all planned out and then... I accidentally wrote this. Why am I such trash for these three? Who knows. But I enjoyed writing it so hopefully you'll enjoy reading it too.

After running errands, you get ready. Remembering your promise to Fangs, you wear black studded denim hotpants with combat boots, and a repurposed band t-shirt that Toni hacked into something much more fitted and befitting your curves. It's a summer night, almost too hot for your Serpent jacket, but you can't not wear it, especially not tonight. It's a tradition that fits you like a second skin. You shuck it on, smelling sweat and smoke, comfort and danger. Grab your keys and head out the door.  
  
The atmosphere at the Wyrm is already slamming by the time you arrive: heat and bodies everywhere, a slow grind of drums and guitars coming from the speakers. You can’t help but scan the room for Sweet Pea and Fangs, clocking them in a corner, deep in conversation with a couple of older Serpents. You leave them to it for now and head to the bar.

 

“Damn, girl,” says Toni, pulling away from where she’s been smooching with Cheryl and looking you up and down. “You look __smoking__ tonight.”

You smile your thanks as she mixes you a drink, saying hello to Cheryl and settling on a bar stool next to her.

“How is he?” you ask. You don’t need to say who you mean. Toni’s known you all for years, and she’s just as anxious about Sweet Pea’s forthcoming trip, even if she doesn’t show it.

She grimaces. “Keeping his cards close to his chest. As usual. But he seems okay. Probably ready for a distraction, though,” she says, arching an eyebrow.

“Ma cherie, just what are you insuinating?” Cheryl asks, mock-scandalised.

“Just that Y/N always seems to be able to charm Sweet Pea back into a good mood. I’m sure tonight’s no exception.”

You down your drink. “I’ll do my best.”

“Go get ‘em, then,” says Toni, sliding another two drinks across the bar for Sweet Pea and Fangs. “Those two have been boring them senseless for the past half hour. About time you go and shake things up.”

You give the two girls a wink and take the drinks over.

 

The older Serpents are still conferring about some territory strategy when you join them, perching on the arm of the sofa and passing the boys their drinks. Sweet Pea snakes an arm round your waist.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says, with that low tone you’ve always loved and a smirk in his voice. He looks tired but calm.

The two older guys drone on but Sweet Pea’s drawing circles with a finger on the bare skin on your back and you can’t concentrate.

His eyes have glazed over too and before long the other two make their excuses and drift off to play pool.

Sweet Pea wastes no time at all in pulling you off the arm of the sofa and into his lap, so your legs are across them both.

You snuggle back, wondering when you’ll get this again.

"Is that my t-shirt?" Fangs demands.

You look down, smoothing it over your skin. "Not anymore."

He scowls. "I've been looking for that for ages." 

 

Oh yeah. You remember now. Him coming round to yours to shower when his power was out. Tarting round in a towel afterwards, shaking his hair like a wet dog. Wearing one of your hoodies to go home because it was cold then. You finding his t-shirt balled up in your bathroom afterwards. Assimilating it into your wardrobe when it went unclaimed. Still. That was so long ago, and you say so.

 

“You left it at mine months ago. Thought you didn't want it anymore.”

“Get over it, Fogarty,” Pea says, swatting him away. “It looks better on her.”

“I want it back.”

“Not a chance.”

“Come on. It's mine.”

“You're really gonna wear it after Toni customised it for me?”

“As if you're arguing about this,” Sweet Pea says, shifting underneath you, scooping his arms under your legs as if he’s gonna pick you up and move you. “I need another drink.”

“Don't go,” you say, twisting around on his lap so you’re straddling him, keeping him in place. His hands are big and warm on your bare thighs and you swallow hard, pretend not to notice the heat pooling in your shorts. You see that muscle jump in his jaw, but you’re keeping it playful. For now.

You play with the hair at the nape of his neck and bat your eyelashes. “Come on, Pea. Stay. We need you. You're the only one who can mediate.”

 

This is how it goes. Sibling rivalry. Bratty, demanding. Wanting attention, wanting affection. A way to be kids even though you sometimes feel a million years old. Telling him you need him in a way that sounds like it's casual; a way to get the words out by pretending they’re not serious.

 

He relents with a smile that says he knows your game, then turns to Fangs. “I think you've missed your chance, man. The shirt looks like it’s hers now.”

“Thank you, Sweets,” you say, smacking a kiss on his cheek and settling back into his lap.

Fangs pouts. “I still say I should have it back if I want. I could pull it off.”

“You'll have to pull it off my body first.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“Get your grubby mitts off her, dude,” Sweet Pea interjects, wrapping his arms round you and pulling you closer to him, away from Fangs, muttering “I'll protect you, baby.” You laugh and tell him he’s your hero.

Fangs is still play-sulking. “I'm just saying.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You really want it back?”

“It's mine,”

“Alright, Fogarty,” you say, untangling yourself from Pea and standing up, pulling Fangs with you. “You asked for it.” You give him a shove. “Bathrooms, now.”

Fangs looks gleeful. “Are we finally gonna fuck?”

Pea is looking between you and laughing. “I'm going to the bar.”

“No way,” you tell him. “You're coming too.”

“Now I really like where this is going.”

“Shut it, Fangs. Get moving.”

You push him towards the toilets, pulling Sweet Pea with you.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs as he follows.

“I know,” you say. “But he's acting up. Sometimes we gotta call his bluff.”

Sweet Pea shakes his head but lets you lead the way.

In the ladies bathrooms, you point towards a cubicle.

“Get in there and strip,” you order Fangs.

“I love it when you boss me about.”

“Stop stalling, idiot.”

“Aren't you joining me?”

“Don't worry, I'm doing it too.”

“There's room in here.”

 

Standing in the doorway, he sheds his leather jacket, then slowly unbuttons his sleeveless plaid shirt, and peels himself out of his tight black tank top. Chest, abs, hips. Skin so gorgeous it makes your mouth water. You and Pea trade glances. His eyes are darker and you'd bet yours are too. 

 

“Enjoying the floorshow?” Fangs asks.

“No complaints.”

He sniggers. “Makes a change.”

“Get fucked.”

“That's what I'm hoping.” 

“This sexual tension,” Sweet Pea says, chuckling as he leans back against the sinks to watch you face-off. “It's too much.”

“He started it,” you pout. “Wanting his stupid shirt back. Being a whiny little bitch. Always having to get his own way.”

 

Crossing your arms, you lift the hem of your t-shirt and slowly ease it over your head.

Standing in your sheer bra, you toss it towards your friend. He catches it but doesn’t move. They’re both staring at your body with lust-black eyes. Your skin is electric under their gaze.

 

“There you go, Fogarty,” you say, moving closer. “Got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

You can hear Sweet Pea swallow and his voice comes out thick. “That’s not all he wants.”

“What do you want, Fangs?”

He doesn’t move, but you can see his fingers tensing, shifting his rings. That’s his tell. A sign he’s trying to keep himself under control.

“I think you can guess,” he says, in a dangerous voice. It slithers like a snake down your spine.

“Tell me,” you say, pressing yourself against him, sliding your hands up his bare chest.

“ _Fuck_ ,” you hear Sweet Pea mutter, almost to himself. “This is hot.” 

Keeping your eye contact with Fangs, you slide down his body, letting your hands drag over him. You snag his plaid off the floor and slip it over your bra, leaving it unbuttoned. Stand back up.

“Go on, Fogarty. You made such a fuss about getting your way. So tell me what you want. Not shy, are you?”

He moves finally, gripping your hips and pulling you against him roughly. You can feel him, hot and hard inside his jeans, as he bends to whisper in your ear.

“No, baby,” he answers, breath hot against your skin and voice like a taut wire. “I’m not shy.” He turns you around to face Sweet Pea, and the mirrors over the sinks. Holding you in place with his bare chest against your back, his cock against your ass.

“I wanna watch you,” he says. “With Pea.”

“I knew putting up with your shit had to pay off eventually,” says Sweet Pea, under his breath.

You cock an eyebrow at him to check he's cool with it. He leans back, giving you his dirtiest grin. “Come here, then.”

“You’re a pervert, Fogarty,” you mutter, and he snickers in response against your neck, sending a shudder right through you.

You move closer to Sweet Pea, letting yourself soak up the sight of him. That face that’s broken a million hearts. Hands that have broken probably that many bones, but that have always been gentle with you.

He pulls you in, too tall for you to kiss properly without you both having to crane your necks, so he picks you up, balances you on the bathroom counter. You wrap your legs around his hips as he cups your face softly and kisses you.

Even though it’s happened before, every time is like a bomb. His lips are soft, and sweet. He bites your bottom lip, just gentle to start with, and you slide your hands under his shirt.

Standing to your side, Fangs snakes an arm around your waist, slides his shirt down over your shoulders so he can latch on to your collarbones. Getting this much attention from both of them at once, you’re in heaven. If heaven were hot, and hard, and felt like every nerve ending was fire and hunger and desperation, all combined.

 

You’re groaning into Sweet Pea’s mouth while he pulls your hair hard and Fangs bites your neck, and when the bathroom door bangs open you all jump apart. Guilty, lust-drunk teenagers, sheepish and smirking and not sorry at all.

 

“What the hell is going on here?” demands Toni, looking between you in Fangs' still-open shirt, Fangs topless and Sweet Pea dressed but dishevelled, mouth swollen and hair a mess.

“Clothes swap,” you say, as if it’s obvious. “Fangs wanted his t-shirt back.”

“You three are _weird_ ,” she says, laughing.

“You are,” Cheryl confirms. “If this is going to be a proper makeover, Cheryl Bombshell needs to be involved. Come, come. I’ll get my make-up.”

She bustles you all out of the bathroom, and somehow Fangs ends doing the Serpent dance in full drag, dressed in the t-shirt that caused all the fuss, and your hotpants (he managed to talk you out of them when Cheryl and Toni refused to lend him their skirts). They are obscenely tight on his crotch, and of course he finds that hilarious.

You and Sweet Pea are right down the front, you in Sweet Pea’s shirt, so big on you that it works as a dress. You’ve borrowed Toni’s belt to cinch it in and she and Cheryl have been making you all cocktails, admiring their handiwork. Fangs grinds on the pole to some rock’n’roll anthem and you and Sweets howl with laughter, arms round each other, throwing all the one-dollar bills you can find at Fangs’ feet.

It’s a good night, and it’s only young yet.

You can’t stop thinking about how they touched you.

 

 


	3. Lawless, Gorgeous, Here, Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fangs and Sweet Pea take you home. It's every bit as filthy and ridiculous as you might expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support so far! It gets dirtier from here...

It’s later, and you’re by the pool tables, watching Fangs play Cheryl. Bombshell’s good (“she’s good at everything,” Toni had leered, when she came by to collect glasses), and so is Fogarty, though he’s still in your hotpants, and maybe it’s that that’s making the game so fun to watch. You’re lounging on a battered settee nearby with Sweet Pea, your bare legs over his lap. You’re joking around, and it feels familiar, and sweet, like everything you love but with an electric undercurrent of tension underneath. You’re so aware of the heat of his body, the little shocks when he shifts your legs to make you both more comfortable. It feels soft and lazy and so delicious and you’re lapping it up, in your own little bubble, until you’re brought back to the game by Fangs cheering. He’s just potted another ball, snarking to Cheryl that she’d better not burn anything down when he wins. This starts a ridiculous squabble about who’s the bigger pyromaniac; the virtues of arson versus pipe bombs. You watch Sweet Pea watching them, his soft chuckles and that exasperated-affectionate look he has for Fangs and Fangs alone.

Then he turns to you, still laughing. “You gotta make him take those shorts off, Y/N. This is way too distracting.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Not like that,” he says.  

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, look over to where Fangs is doing another raunchy Serpent Dance with his pool cue to celebrate his approaching victory.

“Maybe a bit like that,” SP amends.

“I should get changed too,” you say, looking down at Sweet Pea’s flannel that you’re still wearing as a dress. “Don’t wanna accidentally steal another shirt.”

He smooths the edge of it, fingers just brushing under the fabric, against your thigh. “I mean, it worked out okay last time.”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your blush. “True.”

He snickers, then a serious look settles over his face.

“You’re alright about it, right? Like, it didn’t get too out of hand? Before we were interrupted, I mean.”

“Are you kidding? Getting fawned over by the two of you, together? You know how many people must have jerked off about the idea of that?”

He gives his biggest shit-eating grin, like he doesn’t already know all too well how damn hot he is. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you deadpan back.

He preens for a moment, then seems to remember himself. “But I don’t care about them. I care about you.”

Those words hit you like a fist. You swallow the lump in your throat, keep it light. Deflect. “Better not let anyone else hear you say that,” you tease. “I don’t wanna get cut up by some jealous bitch once you’re not here to have my back.”

He leans in closer. “I mean it, Y/N. What we’ve got is the real deal. You know that, right? Ride or die.”

 _ _Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go__. You can’t say it, because he’s gotta do his thing, you know that, but still. Not having him, not having this. It cuts you too deep to let yourself feel it yet. You look into his face. “Me too, Sweets. Ride or die. Always.”

“I don’t wanna fuck things up,” he says. His fingers are still flirting with the hem of the shirt, and the sensation and the emotion combined are almost too much to feel at once.

But you can tell he’s checking you’re okay, that he wants some reassurance, and it’s okay, you know that. Whatever happens, he’d never hurt you, and you tell him you trust him, that it’s cool, you promise.

“But then again,” he adds, after a moment. “You are insanely gorgeous and I have been fantasising about it for years and I’m leaving tomorrow, _so_ …”

You can’t keep the grin off your face. “What’re you saying, Sweets?”

He looks almost shy for second, and it’s so rare a sight it makes you melt.

“That I maybe wanna get out of here?”

“It’s your night,” you tell him, sweetly. “You get whatever you want.”

He groans and tilts his head back, biting his lip like he’s got a million X-rated things in his head. “Now we’re talking.”

“So I can stay in this?” you say, gesturing to his shirt.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes low. “For now.”

You down the rest of the drink and slip back into your Serpent jacket.

“What about him?” you say, nodding to Fogarty, now showing Cheryl his switchblade. You can hear her promising archery lessons in return. Just what that boy needs. Another deadly skill.

Sweet Pea watches him then turns to you. “No Serpent left behind,” he quips, grinning.

You love that it was never a question that you were all leaving together. This kind of loyalty is something you treasure.

“That’s cool,” you say, though inside you can feel a throb of anticipation, already starting to build. “But who’s gonna tell him he needs to put his goddamn jeans on to go home?”

*

 You spend the bike ride home wrapped as tight around Pea as you can get. Your bare legs either side of his jeans, holding hard onto his waist. The engine growling underneath you, giving you a shuddering, reckless feeling in the sticky summer heat.  

“Damn, girl, I’m sorry. I must have been going too fast,” he says, pulling up at your trailer and climbing down. “You don’t normally grip that tight.”

You shrug, smiling, about to dismount from the bike, but he catches your chin and meets your gaze. “You sure you’re okay, doll? What you giving me bruises for?”

“Something to remember me by,” you murmur, as he presses close to you, moving to stand between your legs and not letting you move yet.

“I mean, it’s cool if that’s what you’re into,” he says, smiling but sincere. “But you’ve got nothing to worry about on that front.” His eyes bore into you, hypnotising even in the moonlight. “You’re un-fucking-forgettable, Y/N.”

And he kisses you then, sweet and soft and then harder. His mouth is blazing, burning, it feels incredible, and you can’t get enough of each other, his hands sliding up your bare thighs, pinning you in place on the seat of his bike, pressing you back against the handlebars.  
You barely hear the purr of Fang’s engine, pulling up alongside you, until he’s pulling off his helmet and whooping at the moon like a demented werewolf. Most of his make-up’s been smeared off but his eyes are still raccoon-ringed with mascara, coal black and bright. They’re young and lawless, gorgeous, here and alive. You can’t believe your luck.  
”Starting without me?” he calls to you and Pea in a mock-injured tone as you untangle yourselves, unabashed. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Promises, promises,” Sweet Pea mutters, and then they’re playfighting, giggling like loons and wrestling each other to be the first in behind you as you roll your eyes, unlock the door.

*

 They don’t waste any time when they get you inside. As soon as you’ve shucked your boots and jacket off, Sweet Pea’s on you again, pinning you to the door and kissing you hard. Seconds later, Fangs is there too, and without even looking Pea shifts so there’s room, both of them biting and sucking at either side of your neck.

For a split second, you wonder whether they’ve shared girls like this before, because it seems so natural, so easy that they must have had some practice. And you’re not even jealous, because these two, they’re yours. No doubt about that, not right now, no matter who might have come before. And anyway, they’re both big-mouthed motherfuckers who tell you everything, so you know you’d have heard about it if they had.

“Can I?” Sweets murmurs, fingers finding your buttons.

“It’s your shirt,” you manage to gasp as he starts undoing them with a soft chuckle, and Fangs turns your face to his and kisses you, deep and rough and beautiful, one hand tangled in your hair and the other holding both your wrists in one of his above your head.

Sweet Pea gets the shirt undone, then there’s a soft thud as he drops to his knees. You barely know what’s happening, your skin’s on fire, and before you realise what’s going on you’re groaning against Fangs, digging your nails into his back as Pea bites and licks your inner thighs.

“So wet already,” you hear him say, as he eases down your underwear, and you feel Fangs grin against your mouth.

Sweet Pea hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and holds your hips still with those big rough hands, and when you feel his tongue and lips on your pussy, you see stars, letting your head loll back against the door.

“You look so fucking good like this,” Fangs mutters in your ear, and all you can do is groan again and kiss him more, Fangs’ tongue in your mouth and Sweet Pea’s tongue lapping at your clit and slit.

“She tastes fucking good too,” you hear Pea mumble, the vibrations of his voice shuddering through you from the inside out. Fangs pulls your hair harder, biting down on your neck, and when Pea slams his fingers inside you it’s too much, you’re gone, and you ride your orgasm out clawing Fangs’ shoulders while he holds you up against the door in case your knees give out.

Pea clambers back to his feet looking smug as fuck, wiping his lips with the back of his hand before coming in for a kiss.

Your breathing’s still shallow but you want him anyway, and you stretch to pull his mouth down to yours, muttering that he’s too goddamn big in a voice that comes out dazed.  
”Don't worry, baby girl,” he leers, pressing against you, his cock hard inside his jeans. “You can take it.”  
You giggle against his lips. “Alright, cocky,” you say, palming him through the fabric and feeling his breath shudder. “That wasn’t what I meant.” 

“He is, though,” Fangs mutters, licking a path over the bitemarks he’s left on your neck. “Sweet Pea’s got a _monster_ dick.”  
“And _you_ ’d know, of course,” you murmur.

Fangs sniggers. “He pays me to tell people that.”  
Sweet Pea cuffs him round the head. “Dickhead.” He turns back to you. “People ask him all the time. We made a pact that he’d tell them the truth.”

You roll your eyes, too delirious from how hard you’ve just come to keep up with this dumb conversation. “I meant _tall_ ,” you snark as Pea smirks, taking in your disheveled appearance. “You're too tall. Or I'm too short.”

“Nah,” he says, leaning down to kiss you again. “You are perfect in every way.” He snickers, then adds. “You just need a box or something to stand on.”  
Fangs unwraps himself from where he’s been holding you up. “She’s got a _bed_ ,” he says.

Pea looks at you, cocking an eyebrow, asking without words.

You smile back, loving him a million times more for checking, even though he doesn’t need to, because being here with these two, like this, it’s intoxicating and it’s urgent, but it feels familiar too. You might never have done this before, but there’s trust and there’s a sweetness coming through the desperate lust. And you want him, want them both, so so much, like being oxygen-starved, and you know there’s no way that any of you are stopping now.

“Let’s go,” you tell Sweets, and a grin splits his face. Fangs whoops, racing ahead of you, scrambling out of his shirt. Sweet Pea’s laughing as he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder to carry you towards the bedroom.

You feel like the luckiest woman in the entire world.


	4. Thirsty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are rumours about Sweet Pea written on the Wyrm toilet walls. You and Fangs find out that they're true.

Sweet Pea drops you onto your bed. Fangs is there already, shirtless, jeans unbuttoned, leaning over to your stereo to find an appropriate soundtrack. You’re still dazzled, dizzy, coming down from what’s just happened, and all of it seems surreal. This; them being in your bedroom, teasing you, going through your music; you’re on familiar ground. It’s got an easy kind of glory. But at the same time, something’s shifted. There’s an intensity to them both tonight that they don’t usually let you see. 

You flashback to your earlier thought; have they done this before? With other girls, boys, just each other? You thought you knew them inside out, but you’re learning new sides of them tonight and you just want more, more, more.   

“Okay, Pea,” you say, kneeling up and pulling him down gently by his dog tags. “We need to talk about this."

He lets you draw him onto the bed. “What is it, girl?”

You pout. “Why are you _always_ the least naked?”

He looks between you both. You’re in his open shirt and nothing else, and Fangs is already down to his boxers.

Sweet Pea smirks. “Maybe I'm not as thirsty as you two.”

“Lies,” Fangs says, hands going to the hem of SP’s t-shirt, peeling it up and over his head.

“I'm not gonna say I don't love the view,” Sweet Pea admits.  
”Right, but tonight's about you,” you say, working on his belt buckle. “We wanna make all your dreams come true. Can't do that while you're wearing all these clothes.”

He laughs, pretending to be shocked. “Sounds like you two were planning to seduce me.”

You and Fangs trade glances.

“Not exactly,” you say, biting your lip. “But I think we both had similar thoughts about how tonight could go.”

“Great minds,” Fangs snickers, helping you strip Sweet Pea out of his jeans.

“Evil telepathic twins,” Sweet Pea amends.

“Also gorgeous,” Fangs puts in.

“Sure.”

You push him back on the bed and he lets you. You give yourself a moment to lap up how devastating he looks, lounging back on your sheets with his hair all messy and that heartbreaker grin

“Okay, then. You got me. All yours.”

You and Fangs look at each other, and maybe you have got some strange sexual telepathy thing going on. Because you don’t need to speak. But together, you move so that you’re on either side of him, and you go in for a kiss, letting your hands roam over Sweet Pea’s shoulders and chest.

“All ours,” you murmur.

“I'm not going anywhere,” he mutters back against your mouth.

“Until tomorrow,” you say, pretend-petulant.

“Best make tonight count,then.”

“Then you're gonna need to get rid of these,” Fangs says, hooking a finger on either side of Sweets’ boxers.

“So thirsty,” Pea says, rolling his eyes, lifting his hips to let Fangs pull them down, playing it cool but with his breath getting shallower as you trail scorching little kisses down his chest.  
”Shut the fuck up,” Fangs leers, taking in the sight of SP, naked and hard and gorgeous, then climbing back up the length of his body.

“Make me,” Sweet Pea says, and Fangs does, kissing him so hard and deep that they’re both groaning into it before it’s over.

When they separate, you and Fangs join forces, pinning Sweet Pea to the bed and kissing every bit of him you can get to. He’s definitely stronger than you, and probably Fangs too, but he lets you hold him down as you work your way down his chest. You’re biting that bit just above his hips, the bit that you’ve never let yourself admit you’ve thought about before, whenever you’ve got a glimpse of him in his low-slung jeans, or during those summer-night swim sessions at the quarry.

You lick lower, tasting the salt and sweet of his skin.

“You weren't kidding,” you mutter to Fangs, when you get to his cock. It’s big, and gorgeous, and just looking at him makes you hot all over.

“Told you.”

“And here was me thinking all that graffiti on the Wyrm toilet walls was just wishful thinking.”

“Nah, he writes all those comments himself.”

“Suck my dick, Fogarty,” Sweets laughs, mock-outraged.

“Who’s thirsty now?” you leer, but Pea just groans as Fangs sinks his mouth down over him, tangling his hands in his hair.

You take turns teasing him, kissing and stroking everywhere, Fangs twisting his fist around Pea’s dick as you suck, slide your mouth up and down, flick your tongue over the head and get rewarded with these soft little shuddery gasps from Sweets that get deeper as he gets closer. It feels feral and sweet all at the same time, the two of you devouring him together; lips and tongues sometimes touching, Pea’s knuckles white as he clutches at the sheets.

“You like getting your dick sucked by both of us at once?” Fangs growls, gripping his ass, holding him in place while you take him deeper.

Sweets clenches his jaw, groaning, nodding, unable to form words.

“Show us us how much you like it, Sweet Pea.”

He comes in your mouth with a shivering groan, cock pulsing and hips juddering. You swallow, smiling, kissing your way back up his body gently as he recovers.

“I knew you’d be good at that,” Fangs smirks, coming up behind you, arms round your waist, kissing your neck, your shoulders, your back.

You twist your head to kiss him, biting his lip just a little.

“Excuse me, I know there’s no graffiti about me in the Wyrm toilets.”

“Nah. You can just tell. It’s those perfect cocksucker lips.”

“Game recognise game, babe.”

Sweet Pea’s lazy and dazed, laughing with his eyes still closed as his breathing slows back to normal. “Wow, you two. All that and you’re still bickering? You’re relentless.”

“Come on, Pea, distract her.”

“I reckon I can do that.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto all fours on top of him.

“You look good like this,” he says, running a tattooed thumb over your swollen lips while Fangs licks a hot path down your spine.

You try to concentrate. “So do you.”

“You know what would be even better?”

“What?”

“Watching Fangs fuck you.”

Even the words send shivers through you, not to mention Fangs, still kissing down your body from behind, a hand reaching round to slide slick fingers over your pussy, where you’re hot and wet and wanting more.

You suck in air, try to keep your thoughts straight. “Now who's got a weird telepathic teamwork thing going on?”

“In unity there is strength,” Fangs quips.  
You roll your eyes, trying in vain to keep your focus on Sweets and not the sensations spiralling out from Fangs’ attentions. “If ever that was an award for filthiest interpretation of Serpent law…”  
Sweet Pea snickers, sliding his hands up your chest, cupping your breasts and making you exhale, sharp, at the heat and roughness of his skin on yours.

“We got you covered, girl.”

There’s movement behind you; Fangs sliding out of his boxers and grabbing a condom. You grin over your shoulder, but Pea turns your face back to his and kisses you again.

“So, you ready to see if Fangs can make you come as hard as I did?” he murmurs.

“You are __not__ making this a competition,” you say, but the words come out thick because Fangs is back in place behind you now, sliding his fingers into you and curling them just right.

“Because I'd win, obviously,” he says.

“Oh my god,” you groan, half out of exasperation and half because your skin feels like it’s shimmering, everything’s that intense. You buck your hips against his hand and mew in annoyance when he removes them, shifting into position.

“Yeah, that's a good start,” he murmurs, sounding smug. And then he holds your hips still and drives his cock into you; slow, hard, achingly good, stretching your throbbing walls and hitting that spot so that you see stars. You let your head fall into the nape of Pea’s neck, biting out a moan.

Fangs keeps moving, slow and deliberate, cock grinding into your pussy and fingers sliding over your clit.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Pea mutters in your ear. “Show me how good you can take it.”

You can only groan in response as Fangs increases his pace, slamming into you deeper, rougher.

“You like having Fangs ride you like this?”

You’re whimpering yes and Fangs grunts too. “You wanna feel how hot and tight she is,” he mutters, between thrusts. “She’s so wet, it’s insane.”

His fingers are biting into your hips so hard you’ll have fingermarks, pulling you back onto his cock so he can drive into you harder.

Underneath you, Sweet Pea kisses every bit of you he can reach, one hand over one of your breasts and the other sliding back and forth across your clit.

Your orgasm’s building and it’s all you can do to hold on, stay upright, ride out the wave as it comes. Being between them like this feels fucking sensational; every micro-second is another million starbusts of pleasure, of wildness, of hair-pulling, lip-biting, sharp, gorgeous frenzy. Fangs’ cock pounds into you; he’s getting close now, you can feel how he’s getting more urgent, more aggressive. It feels good; wolfish and desperate and delicious. He grabs your hair, pulling your head back, and Sweet Pea’s watching with dark hungry eyes, like he’s never seen anything so good. He bites your neck, whispering _come on, baby girl, let go_ , and you do. You hear your own voice, low and hoarse, mewling _fuck, fuck, fuck_  as everything overtakes you, your walls clenching and Fangs groaning as he rams into you again and again, coming inside you with a final thrust and shudder, face pressed into the nape of your neck.

“Oh my fucking god,” you manage to mumble, into Pea’s shoulder, once your breathing’s slowed back down.

“You okay there, kitten?”

“Why haven’t we been doing this entire time?”

“Didn’t want to ruin our friendship, remember?”

Fangs collapses onto the bed next to you both, glowing and wild-looking and lovely.

“Nothing that feels that good could ruin anything,” he says, and you kiss him for that, lying on Sweet Pea’s chest, basking in the way they feel, how lucky you are to have them both here.

“It better not,” you say.

“It won’t.”

“Good,” says Sweet Pea, cackling as he grabs you and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him. “Because I’m hard as a rock after that hardcore sex show, and I wanna see if you feel as good as Fangs says.”


	5. Pancakes at Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex, sex, sex. Then pancakes, and an emotional farewell.

Maybe it’s because he’s the one leaving. That makes it feel more important, more intense. Maybe it’s because he’s already come once and so it’s not as urgent, he can take his time and watch your reactions, drive into you slow and hard, smirking when you gasp his name. Maybe it’s because you’re already in that sensitive orgasm-comedown endorphin electrical storm, with your emotions close to the surface and every touch feeling like fire and ice, simultaneously too much and nowhere near enough.

 

Maybe it’s all of those things, or none of them. Because you love Fangs, you do. You loved him already, despite or maybe because of the way he drives you crazy, and you love him even more for the way he’s worshipped you tonight. But with Sweet Pea, it’s different. Sweet and savage, all at the same time.

 

It starts with him pinning you to bed, Fangs chuckling at the way you’re still so orgasm-dazed that you don’t even try to wrestle free. You just arch your back and let them lick twin paths down either side of your neck. Sweets’ hands burn around your wrists as he holds them still. He licks circles around your nipples, biting down and then soothing the sting away with soft kisses and flicks of his tongue.

 

It doesn’t take long before you’re aching again, wanting more, wanting him.

“Sweet Pea… please,” you mutter.

“Please what?”

“Touch me, fuck me. Something. Please.”

He looks at you like he wants to swallow you whole, his eyes dark with lust before he exchanges smirking glances with Fangs and releases your wrists. He drags you to the edge of the bed so he can stand between your legs. Fangs lies alongside you, distracting you with a long deep kiss while Sweet Pea grabs a condom. Fangs slides his fingers over you, opening you up, mumbling into your neck at how hot and slick you are as Sweet Pea lines himself up.

“You ready, baby?”

You gaze into his eyes, bite your bottom lip and nod.

He drives into you like he’s coming home; slow and sure and agonisingly perfect. He’s big and hard and hot inside you, and you’re so tight it almost hurts but in the best possible way.

“Fuck,” he mutters, holding still for a second, letting you take in the sensation, adjusting to the feel of him; thick and throbbing and deep. “You feel incredible.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to move, but he holds your hips still. Drags his cock almost the entire way out of your pussy, then grinds back into you, deliberate, feeling the impact shudder through you as your muscles contract around him.

He fucks like he fights; with all the right instincts and all the right skills, knowing he’s good, too good for his own good, the kind of good that leads to trouble. Right on that sharp delicious knife-blade between controlled and animal.

Fangs is lying next to you, hands roaming and mouth against your neck, teeth grazing your earlobe as he keeps up a constant stream of dirty talk.

“You look so good getting fucked by Sweets. You take that dick so good, baby. I can’t wait to see Sweets make you come all over his cock.”

Between them, they’re driving you crazy, and you’re bucking against Sweet Pea, groaning every time he slams into you, up to the hilt.

“I’ve jacked off to the idea of your pussy round my cock so many times,” he mutters, eyes boring into yours as he fucks you harder. “But the real deal is so much better than I ever thought.”

Fangs reaches down to tease your clit and you gasp at the pressure. He keeps it up as Sweet Pea shifts you, cock still hard and throbbing inside you, so that he can climb back onto the bed. He kneels up, manoeuvring your legs over his shoulders, grinding his hips against yours.

You didn’t think he could get any deeper, but this position, this angle, feels somehow even more intense. You’re powerless, held down and open, and it feels incredible. You arch your back, let your head fall back, feeling Fangs’ teeth on the exposed curve of your throat as he roughly fondles your tits. Sweet Pea is relentless, his body grinding against your clit and his cock hammering into you just right. Your orgasm’s building, and it’s all you can do to hold on; hands on his ass, nails biting into his flesh, making him hiss.

“You like being fucked like this, Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna remember how good this dick felt while I’m gone?”

“Fuck, yes, Sweets, don’t stop. I’m so close.” You pull him into you harder, the friction between your bodies making your clit throb, making you moan louder and louder with every thrust.

“That’s it, girl. Let this whole damn trailer park know that you’re in here getting fucked by us both. Show me how hard you can come. Let me feel that pussy coming round my cock.”

Your orgasm crashes over you, so intense that you almost black out. Sweet Pea rides it out, fucks you through it, kissing you through your little whimpers as he keeps going, building momentum.

You come again at the same time as he does, groaning and shuddering, his cock pulsing inside you. Fangs kisses you more gently as the aftershocks shiver through you. Sweet Pea collapses on your other side.

“Damn,” you breathe, as they both snuggle into you, a head on each of your shoulders, your fingers carding through their messed-up hair. “I feel like I’ve been missing out all the time we __weren’t__ doing that.”

“No way, girl. You were worth the wait.”

Behind your curtains, the sky is getting pink. Dawn’s coming.

“It’s almost morning,” you say, kissing them both in turn before you wriggle out from in between them. “I’m hitting the shower, and then we need sleep.”

They make half-hearted ‘don’t go’ groans but they let you leave; sweat-shiny, gorgeous and dishevelled, tangled in your sheets.

“Don’t forget, Fangs,” you remind him from the doorway. “You promised breakfast in bed.”

“That was before you tired me out using me for sex all night.”

“I mean it, Fogarty. A promise is a promise.” You leave them mumbling and giggling to each other and step into the shower. The water flows over your skin; the bruises and lovebites and sensitive spots. You’re euphoric, dazzled and exhausted; still riding the adrenaline wave from what you’ve just done while feeling totally sated too.

Dressed in sleep shorts and a vest, wet hair cooling your still-fevered skin, you head back to the bedroom. Sweet Pea’s lying on his back, arms folded behind his head. Fangs lies alongside him, winding him up about something, and while you watch Pea cuffs him round the head, wraps his arms around him in a gesture that’s half wrestling-move and half bone-crushing hug. You grin and move closer, worming your way into bed on Pea’s other side.

“Go to sleep, maniacs.”

“Thanks for letting us stay, Y/N,” Sweet Pea mumbles into your hair.

“Course.”

“And for the sex,” Fangs mutters, and though you can already feel yourself sinking into sleep, you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Ride or die,” you say, into Sweet Pea’s shoulder, curling into him.

They both say it back in those sweet half-asleep voices, all of you slipping into a contented doze. The rising sun slowly turns your trailer walls gold.  

 

*

 

You wake to the smell of coffee and the sound of Fangs clattering around in your tiny kitchen, rapping along to your bad bitches playlist like he knows every word. You stir, and feel an arm tighten around your waist. It’s Sweet Pea, sleep-warm and lovely, curled around you from behind.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles, pulling you closer.

“I’m not,” you reassure him, twisting in his arms to face him, smoothing his messed-up hair away from his face, affection surging in you as he blinks himself awake.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he says, smiling. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“That was some send-off last night.”

You grin. _I love you, you big idiot_. But all you do is say you know.

“Are you sore?”

“A bit. Not too bad.”

“Good, because while we’ve got this bed all to ourselves, I intend to use it.” He smirks, shuffling upright and pulling you on top of him, straddling his lap. You inhale sharply as you feel his hard cock pressing against your underwear.

“You’re insatiable.”

“Guilty.”

“What about him?” you ask, nodding towards the door, rolling your hips against Sweets and making him suck in his breath.

“You know we’re never getting breakfast if he hears us.”

“I can be quiet,” you promise, as Sweet Pea pulls your vest up over your head.

“Yeah?”

“Try me.”

He smacks your ass as you climb off him for a second, wriggling out of your underwear while he rolls on a condom. Then you clamber back into place, keeping your gaze on his beautiful dark eyes as you sink down onto his hard cock, his hands gripping hard on your hips. You kiss him to muffle your moans, loving the feeling of his smooth chest pressed to yours, of his arms wrapped around you, of his hands in your hair. He looks at you like you’re a fucking goddess, and you feel like one, grinding down against him, your clit pulsing from the friction and his dick throbbing inside you. When you feel your orgasm approaching, you bury your face into his neck and shoulders, doing your best not to cry out as the shudders overtake you. He’s close too, you can feel it, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his cock as he slams up into you.

You claw his shoulders and bite down on his neck to keep yourself quiet as he comes inside you.

As both your breathing settles, you feel his lips against your ear. “I’m gonna miss you, baby,” he whispers, so quiet you could have imagined it, but you know you didn’t. You nuzzle into him, finding his lips for a kiss, the softest one you’ve ever shared.

Then you hears Fangs’ voice from the doorway. “Now you’ve worked up an appetite,” he says, proudly brandishing a plate. “I made pancakes.”

You share the stack in bed, squabbling over the maple syrup and getting crumbs everywhere. It could be like any one of a million meals you’ve had together, except for being mostly naked, and having spent the previous hours fucking each others’ brains out. It’s surreal how it feels; intimate and familiar and not awkward at all.

You pout when they start getting ready to go, taking turns in the shower and tugging their clothes back on. But you knew it, all of you did, that you’ve just been delaying the inevitable. Sweet Pea’s leaving, and you don’t know when he’s coming back.

“I’m gonna ride with him as far as Greendale,” Fangs tells you, once they’re ready.

You nod. That makes sense. This way it won’t feel so big, this journey he’s gotta make alone. Having someone there at the start might make it seem less intimidating, less stressful. And they’ll get their own goodbye, with no-one watching. It seems right, even if you don’t want to say yours.

Fangs cups your face, smacks a kiss to your forehead, says he’ll be back later, then slips out the door to start up his bike. Leaving you with Sweet Pea, giving you a last moment together. Your heart feels like it’s swollen several sizes; with love and gratitude for Fangs being so thoughtful, with pain at the idea of Pea being gone, with a confused, dizzying replay of all the ways they’ve made you theirs in the past years and hours.

“Don’t forget me,” Sweet Pea says, as you press your body against him, resting your head against his chest.

“No chance,” you say.

“Not after last night, anyway.”

“Not _ever_.”

He gives you a big, rib-bruising hug, holding onto you tight before he draws back and gazes into your eyes.

“You know, if I start kissing you again, I’ll never want to stop.”

You grin. “Fine by me.”

“But you know I gotta go.”

You want to beg him to stay but you know you have a responsibility, that this is already hard enough without you making it worse. That you gotta do your bit to send him off right.

You cup his face, stretch on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “So save it for when you come back.”

He smiles into the soft peck he lands on your lips. “I promise.”

You let him go.

They start their bikes, and you give them the middle finger instead of a wave, seeing them exchange grins before they swipe their helmet visors down, revving their motors and peeling away.

You stand in the doorway long after they’re out of sight, listening to the growl of their engines fading until they’re too far away to hear. Then you grab your phone and send off a message to Sweets, so he gets it whenever they next stop. _Ride or die_ , you type. _Always_.

Before you hit send, you add a row of snakes and hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! First ever fanfic, done. Thank you so much for all the encouragement, please comment if you enjoyed.  
> I've already started writing another one in this world (where you and Fangs fall apart with Pea gone), so hopefully there'll be more to come soon...


End file.
